


Through The Rain

by kaige68



Category: Inception (2010)
Genre: Canon-Typical Drug Use, Canon-Typical Violence, Community: 1_million_words, Gift Fic, Limbo, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-03
Updated: 2015-12-03
Packaged: 2018-05-04 17:55:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,582
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5343167
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kaige68/pseuds/kaige68
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Arthur travels across the planet and then into limbo to try and bring Eames back.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Somewhere In The Night

**Author's Note:**

  * For [sharpiesgal (TigerLily)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TigerLily/gifts).



> Written for a Sharpiesgal who requested whatever tickles the muse's fancy for her Swap Of Joy fic. Hey Sharpie, this tickled! 
> 
> Excessive thanks to Haldoor and Asphaltcowgrrl for their read-throughs. Any remaining errors are entirely mine.
> 
> Warnings: Situations and drug use are canon-typical. There is also gratuitous use of Barry Manilow songs.

He checked his messages when he got back to his hotel room. Arthur was less than enthused that there was one on an old line from Cobb. The man had gone back home after inception, but he hadn’t been the same. Or more precisely, he hadn’t been the same as before Mal died. He was exactly the same as he’d been when he’d signed them up with Saito. Reckless, careless, taking on bad clients with toxic jobs. Arthur hadn’t worked with him since inception. He understood why Cobb took the risks then, he didn’t know why he still took them.

Arthur typed in the code on the computer that would play the message.

_Arthur, I know that you don’t want to hear from me, but… Well, Eames is… He got hurt on a job and you’re the only one who would be able to help him. I know you didn’t get along with him, and I’m not asking as a personal favor, but you’re the only one who can help him. I thought you should know._

Arthur stopped the message. He couldn’t listen to anything else Cobb could possibly have to say. What was he? Fucking Obi Wan? Fucking Cobb! 

And what the hell had Eames been doing?

~*~

Three hours later Arthur was checked out of his hotel and off his job. He’d handed off all his notes to the extractor. He had been relieved that he had a good enough reputation, and had already done all the leg work, that he didn’t get any flack for leaving. Tempest understood that if Arthur was bailing, there was reason.

He’d put a call into Yusuf, left a message, and started hacking into customs databases looking for Eames’ aliases to find out where he was. Heathrow was the last place Eames had touched down.

Yusuf returned the call with disheartening information. _All I could find out was that he died in the dream. But he was four levels down, Arthur, I didn’t know…”_

_Fuck!_ “Did Cobb put you up to that too? Give you his share of the job again?” 

_”Arthur, I made the compound for Cobb himself. He doesn’t travel, he only consults on jobs now. Everyone knows this. I made the compound for him to experiment at home, I would never do that again.”_

Clearly, they’d been had by Cobb again. “What happened to Eames?” He’d go after Cobb later.

_”That’s all I know. They went in, started working, went down and down, he got hurt. Didn’t come up.”_

“Who was the extractor?”

_“Flynn.”_

“Son of a bitch! Flynn just left him there?”

_”They unhooked him, left him unconscious. I don’t know where.”_

“London was the last place Eames traveled to.”

_”I can’t go there.”_ Which Arthur already knew. _”I can meet you in Stockholm. I have mixture that might work.”_

Arthur changed his flight plan and texted Ariadne. **Find out where your ex dumped E’s body.**

The texts he got back when he hit his first layover were pissed and then worried then pissed again:

**I never dated Cobb, you call him yourself!**

**What happened to E?**

**Arthur?!**

**Sorry, thought you meant Cobb. M is declining my calls.**

**Finally got him. Says he doesn’t know what you’re talking about. He’s lying. What happened?**

**WHERE ARE YOU?**

**CALL ME NOW**

Yeah, Merrick was lying. But at least he knew that Arthur knew he was involved. If Flynn was involved, Merrick was involved. He texted back. **Between planes. Don’t have much now. E didn’t come up. All I know. Try harder.**

~*~

When Arthur landed in Stockholm there was a text with a long line of numbers. The text appeared twice, exactly the same. He studied the number while waited for Yusuf in the airport where they agreed.

It was oddly long. If it was a passcode, Arthur didn’t have any idea what it might be to. Merrick couldn’t be caught giving Arthur anything, it wouldn’t be obvious, and Ariadne didn’t go for stupid guys, just reckless ones.

It was off for latitude and longitude, and two times…. He divided the number by two and found the location on the map. 

“He’s in a hospital in Glasgow.” Arthur told Yusuf as soon as the man sat down. 

“So they called emergency?” He sounded too hopeful. Arthur didn’t know how anyone could sound so optimistic.

“According to his hospital records, he was found in an alley. Suspected overdose, unknown drugs, he’s in a maintained coma.” Arthur turned the screen so Yusuf could see the medication that the hospital was giving Eames.

Yusuf pushed his soft drink toward Arthur and read. “You’ll have to keep him on saline as well- How will you get him out of hospital? Two days! Arthur- I-”

“I’ll handle it. This will get me down four levels?” He pointed at the paper cup.

“If his mind has been able to maintain them. I doubt that some of them were his to maintain. Arthur, two days is…”

“Eternity. What if he didn’t maintain them? This will work? Clear? Stable?”

“ _Should_ work.” Yusuf was visibly shaken.

“Nice to see you’re not dealing with absolutes anymore.”

“Arthur, I didn’t know. Cobb told me it was for his own personal use.”

“It’s time you stopped believing in Cobb.” Arthur powered down the computer, and picked up his things, including the soft drink. “Stop taking his calls.”

“You’ll be in touch? Let me know-” 

“You’ll hear from me or you’ll hear from Eames. You decide which is worse.”

~*~

Less than an hour after getting to Scotland, Arthur had a car and a tourist hotel room where they didn’t ask questions.

 **Talked to Y. On my way. Don’t do this w/o me.** Ariadne texted, making Arthur smile as he changed into scrubs.

He sent back the address. It would be better if she was watching over them while he went under, but- **Can’t wait, too long already** He left a room key for her at the desk.

Arthur made his way into the hospital and waited down the hall from the CAT Scan department. He’d hacked in and scheduled an appointment from the parking lot. Playing solitaire on his phone made him look like just another orderly on break until Eames’ bed went by. 

_That’s the easy part._ He thought as he transferred Eames to a wheelchair and the orderly to the bed. Arthur walked Eames right out to the car. And just as easily he walked his ‘drunk’ friend up to his hotel room.

~*~

The first level was a supermarket. A labyrinthine American supermarket that was devoid of shoppers. It was so very odd as Arthur made his way through a design that was typical of Flynn’s style that he forced on his architects. He found Eames, in the cash office. Barry Manilow played much too loudly over the speakers.

It was strange, at least to Arthur, that they’d unhooked Eames from the PASIV there and taken it away. Who, other than him, was going to work his way into Eames’ mind and get their dream fabricated machine?

Arthur opened the unit he brought with him. He hooked up Eames, then himself, and pushed the button.

~*~

Barry blared again in the roller disco on the second level. The lights whizzed, the mirror ball spun, and the empty space was impossibly sadder than the supermarket.

He found Eames in the back of the stock room. Visible gunshot in the stomach. A slow kill. He had a flash to Saito getting shot in the cab. Arthur didn’t like how similar the situations were. 

He knelt next to Eames and felt for a pulse. It was there, not often, but there. Arthur set up the next PASIV since Flynn’s team had taken that one too, hooked them both up and went down to the next level.

~*~

And this was Eames. Art Deco hotel that had seen better days. _Copacabana_ playing softly in the lobby. The detail on the decor was exact, but nothing that would be memorable outside of the dream. Arthur searched the ground floor for Eames, reaffirming his respect for the man. He took the stairs up, methodically searching each floor, finding the short cuts, humming along with the music. He found nothing.

He hit the button for the elevator; when the doors opened, Arthur found Eames. Or someone he assumed was Eames. He didn’t recognize the face, but there was blood on the stomach and a very weak pulse, better than the disco, but weak nonetheless. Arthur set up and…


	2. Could It Be Magic

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Eames that Arthur finds might not be the Eames that Arthur last saw.

Arthur found himself in a theater seat. Performance theater, not movie. He was halfway back and a few seats away from the left aisle. 

The place seemed to be Eames’ taste as well, but a little off. Which Arthur found very strange. If Eames was the dreamer of the previous level, he shouldn’t have even come down here. So not the fourth level, but-

As Arthur left his seat he found a playbill on the floor. _The Limbo Theater presents:_ Arthur smiled and climbed to the stage.

There was a man at the levers for the curtains. It took Arthur by surprise. The man didn’t look like any of Eames’ characters that he’d seen before. He was thin, but not scrawny. About Arthur’s height and hair color. Arthur shook his head slightly at the projection.

“Sir? We don’t have a show today. They shouldn’t have let you in. Is there something I can do for you?” The stage hand was polite, but his body language was slightly menacing.

“I’m looking for Eames.” Arthur put his hands palms forward just wide of his hips. A gesture meaning he was no threat.

“Don’t know no Eames.”

“Jerome?” A woman’s voice called out from well behind the stage hand. “Do we have company?”

“Yes, Miss.” 

Arthur watched as Jerome stood aside to unobstruct the woman’s view.

She was tall, swathed in deep red. Majestic. Plunging neckline showing off over-large breasts. Make-up perfect, looking like she put the effort in but didn’t want to detract from her own ‘natural’ features.

“Regina.” Arthur purred the name at her and stepped forward. She was older looking than the last time he’d seen Eames wear her but she still looked beautiful. “I didn’t expect to run into you here.”

“Where else would I be? And who else would you expect to see here? At my theatre?” She moved from the shadows into the light, and while her age showed more, she took his breath away. “Oh my goodness. Arthur? Dearest! I almost didn’t recognize you. You look exactly the same!”

Arthur stepped close enough to reach for her hand. He lifted it and brushed his lips over her knuckles. “That makes no sense at all, Regina. If I look the same, you should have recognized me right away.” He looked behind her and noticed more people, projections, gathering around backstage. 

“You haven’t aged a day. It’s been decades, dearest. I’m an old hag, and you’re still young and dapper. How have you managed that?” Regina stroked his sleeve, hunched her shoulders for a moment to better show off her cleavage.

“I’ll show you, if you take me somewhere private.” Arthur leered at the woman. He followed her as she laughed loudly and lead him to her dressing room.

Once ensconced in her well appointed space, Regina sat at the settee, gesturing for Arthur to sit next to her. Just as he did, there was a knock at her door. A timid voice calling her to a fitting. Regina sent the wardrobe assistant away. Before Arthur could draw a breath, there was another knock, another interruption. 

After the third one, Arthur took her hands in his. “Send them away. Send them all away.” 

Regina tilted her head and moved to stand again.

“No, right here.” Arthur touched her temple lightly. “I’m not a threat, I will not hurt you. I’m only here to help. You know that.”

The next knock at the door stopped midway.

“So, Dearest, what are you here to help me with?”

“Darling.” Arthur amended. “I’m looking for Eames.” Arthur searched her face for any trace of recognition.

“I’ve not left this theater for forty years, Arthur. I don’t know your Eames.” Her eyes and tone were skeptical. 

“I’ll help you remember him.” Arthur’s thumbs slid slowly across the back of Regina’s hands. “We have plenty of time.”

“Well, if that’s the case, you should spend some of that time taking very good advantage of an old woman.” She leaned forward, tilting her head inquisitively.

Arthur chuckled, “You know I like them the same way you do. Less cleavage, and more below the belt.”

She pulled her hands away and made a tsk sound. “If you ever change teams, dearest. You let me know?”

“Darling.” Arthur corrected again. “And you will be my very first call. Count on it.”

“Flattery, _Darling_ , will get you anything you want.” She smiled fully, and Arthur was once more astounded at how beautiful Eames had made her. “Now, about this man you’re looking for…”

“Let me show you something else first?” At her nod, Arthur stood and urged Regina to do the same. He guided her to her dressing table and held the chair for her. Watching her reflection in the mirror, “You are breathtaking.”

“Your breath is all for this Eames fellow,” She joked. “You wouldn’t notice me at all if he were in the room, would you?”

“You are stunning, Regina, and you know it. Now, you wanted to know how I keep young. I’ll show you. Look there, at that beautiful woman.”

“She’s a washed up has been.”

“I would never have thought, the last time we met, that age would make you this much more stunning. Look there.” Arthur pointed. “Those lines at your eyes.”

“It’s vulgar to point out a lady’s crow’s feet.”

“Laugh lines.” Arthur amended. “The things that show that you have enjoyed your life, that you do not suffer, that you thrive.”

“Well played, Darling.”

“Look close at them. Remember what you looked like before they were evident.” 

Regina looked closer. Stared at her reflection, blinked, and the laugh lines were gone. She sat back in shock and the lines reappeared.

Arthur smiled. Leaned in for a moment and brushed a kiss against her cheek. “It’s that simple. Look at the details. And change them.”

She did.

She pushed forward to the duplicate across from her. Arthur watched as she de-aged before him. Wrinkles leaving, skin firming, breasts no longer battling gravity. 

“Arthur, you’re a magician.” 

“No. You are.” He sat on the arm of the settee behind her. “Have you ever thought of going blonde?”

Her hair color changed, and Regina gasped and giggled. “Oh, that’s… That’s horrid. It washes me out completely! No. What about ginger?” The cornhusk color turned to a vibrant deep red before their eyes. “Better but, not quite.”

“Strawberry blonde?” Arthur offered.

Her hair changed again. “Do you like?”

“It’s nice.” He offered. “It’s attractive, it says look at me without yelling it from the rooftops.”

“It sounds like there is a qualification that you’d like to make?”

Arthur shrugged at her reflection. “I like the brown better.”

“You do?” Regina eyed her hair again, and Arthur watched it change several shades in the brown family, finally settling on something slightly lighter than it had been before. “I do like that.”

After a minute or two of watching her change her hairstyles, Arthur asked, “Do you remember when we first met?”

She looked at him, distracted with a coronet of braids. She looked away, as if mentally searching, then looked back. “No, I don’t. It’s like I’ve always known you.” The confusion left her face, overtaken by the outrageous flirt she always showed. “Remind me. Tell me of how fascinated you were the first time we met.”

Arthur reached out and stroked at one of her braids with a wistful smile then met her eyes across the glass. “You were mousier at first. He made you, not quite shy, but … demure. I was impressed that he could create so well without a template. And then he went too far, which he tends to do.” Arthur paused to judge her reaction; Regina only looked quizzical. “You were in the reflection across from him, and he put you in the tightest dress I have ever seen. Then there was more confidence in your face. Not because you looked poured into the fabric, but because you are a confident woman. Then your breasts grew to … well, I wasn’t sure how you were going to be able to walk without falling over.”

Regina laughed. “And then?” She asked when Arthur’s pause went on too long.

“And then they went back down to impressive, but not body crippling.” Arthur let his thumb stroke over her neck. “The dress changed to green, and fit you much better. You were, and have since been, stunning. And then you were not just in the mirror, but in front of me as well. Splendid seductress, offering to help me out of my suit.”

She laughed. “That does sound like me.” She looked back to her own reflection, her hair changed again, pulled away from her face, but flowing down her back. 

Arthur watched a seriousness take over Regina’s face. Not something he’d seen before from her, and slightly disconcerting. 

“And this _He_ , who made me in the mirror? This was your Eames?”

“Not _mine_ ,” He tried for light hearted again. “But yes, it was Eames.”

“And he’s in here?” She pointed at her own head. “He’s part of me?”

“No, Regina. You’re part of him. You are in Eames’ head.”

She looked away from the mirror. Not down, she wasn’t that woman, not afraid, not worried. Just a woman who needed a moment to herself mentally. 

Arthur stood, turned away to give her the time. He read the posters on the wall. Advertisements for the theatre’s productions while Regina had ruled this space in limbo. 

“I’m not entirely comfortable with that.” 

Arthur said nothing.

“Why don’t I remember him? Why haven’t I seen him in the last forty years?”

“I don’t know. You aren’t him, he’s not you-”

She interrupted. “He made me up! I’m a figment of his imagination!” 

Her tone made Arthur turn around to look at her again. “You are confident, capable-”

“And your Eames isn’t?”

“This,” Arthur gestured around him. “This is … terrifying. Not the theatre, not you or the place you’ve created. But where the theatre is, this headspace. It’s a lot to try to handle when it’s the last place you want to be.”

“So he pulled out the sharpest tool in his shed and made me handle the problem.”

Arthur inhaled slowly. “Take it as a compliment.”

She turned to face him, no longer using the mirror and leveled a scathing look at him. 

“If I were stuck in limbo, Regina, there is no one I’d rather be with.”

She didn’t believe him. “Not your Eames?”

“You are Eames.”

She stood up and walked away, opened the door and made her way to the stage. 

Arthur followed.

They passed no one, the stage was deserted. The house lights were up and he watched as she skilfully dimed them. Changed the lighting again to wash herself in a reflective light, made to look like a rainy day. 

“I’ve performed thousands of shows, you know?”

“Sold out shows, I would assume. Standing ovations.”

“And that’s all in my head too, in his head? Is he that full of himself?”

Arthur laughed. “Sometimes, but sometimes positive feedback is what is needed.” 

She nodded and turned back to where the audience would be, if they had one. “You know, when I arrived, the most horrible music was playing. Soft in the background. Something I remember from when I was young, but it was everywhere and very slow. It took me years to figure out how to turn it off.” She turned back to him. “So why has it taken this long? Why hasn’t he straightened out his own mind and fixed this? Woken up?”

It was the first sign that Eames was recognizing he was in a dream. Arthur knew that the man was aware he was in limbo, but Regina hadn’t known and clearly Eames had lost the thought. “This is deep down-”

“A dream within a dream? Something about that sounds familiar.”

“Deeper than that, you are four levels down. He was shot in one of the dreams, and the people he was working with left him.”

She walked to the edge of the stage and looked down at the orchestra pit. “Don’t you wake up if you die in in dream?”

“Not with the sedative he was given. It sent Eames further down.”

“He wasn’t working with you then? You didn’t abandon him?”

“No, I wasn’t working with him.” Arthur walked toward her.

“So how do you expect to get him back? If he dies here, if I die here, don’t we go down further?”

“I found Yusuf, the mixture we’re on now should allow any kick to bring us back up.”

“A kick?” She smiled, amused. Arthur could tell she was seeing some of Eames’ memories. “Where were you when he went down?”

“Australia.”

“And you came running to save us? Oh, Arthur. Darling.” She smiled again, with a recognition that made Arthur uncomfortable like he was when Eames flirted with him. 

Regina held out her hand to Arthur. She looked to the orchestra pit again and Arthur felt his stomach drop as if he were in a fast moving elevator. The stage rose, the pit sunk.

They stepped off the stage together.


	3. It's a Miracle

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The trip back.

Arthur was leaning over Eames when the man finally blinked awake in the elevator. He watched Eames close his eyes again and take a deep breath.

When he finally opened his eyes again he was all Eames. Bravado and cheek. “So they left me here then? Bastards. But you, Darling? You came running to the rescue? Arthur, my hero.” He batted his eyes and let Arthur help him stand. With less impertinence he asked “How long was I under?”

“I assumed when you said forty years you were just throwing a number around.” Arthur looked at his watch. “Three days, since the job went-”

“Three days!” Eames paced the small floor. “What the bloody hell took you three days to get from Australia?”

“You don’t exactly keep me abreast of your itinerary, Eames. There are no nightly text message check-ins. It was almost two days before I was told that something had happened. And it was a stupid move to work with Flynn and Merrick.” Arthur slouched against the wall by the floor buttons. “Why would you do that?”

“They were very flattering. _You’re the best, we need the best._ And the mark was a… Well, the job was intriguing.” Eames leaned his shoulder against the wall opposite Arthur and gestured vaguely with his hands.

“And going three levels down with Cobb’s personalized cocktail?”

Eames ran his hand through his hair and uttered several swears. “I didn’t know about that bit.”

“You did the hotel here?” Arthur asked and Eames responded with just a nod. “What’s the kick?”

Eames smile split his face. “It’s an homage to the best point man I know. Hold the button for the top floor and hit the one for ground. The cables snap.”

“Shouldn’t the elevator already be destroyed then?”

“The plan was to jump off the roof. I didn’t tell them about this. They were a little too flattering.” Eames laughed as the elevator cables let go.

~*~

“I feel like I should be wearing roller skates.” Arthur said, helping the injured Eames up again.

Eames opened his jacket to show a t-shirt soaked in blood, but printed with Farrah Fawcett’s face. He laughed at Arthur’s eye roll and started coughing. 

“What’s the kick?” Arthur wasted no time, he didn’t want Eames to die slowly again, leaving Arthur to go fishing once more.

“This was Merrick’s level, Darling. What do you think?”

Arthur reached behind Eames and pulled the gun from the back of his waistband. “I don’t know what Ariadne ever saw in him.” He raised the gun, pointing it at Eames head. 

“Did you ever figure out what she saw in Cobb?”

Arthur chuckled, shaking his head. He shot Eames, then himself.

~*~

“Flynn is utterly predictable.”

“Of course, Darling. And you’re so much more impulsive.”

Arthur gave Eames a dark look in frozen foods. “I flew across the planet to pull you out of limbo.”

“Very impromptu of you. Was it Merrick who sent you after me? I doubt Flynn would have cared.”

“Cobb called.” Arthur stopped walking and shook his head. “Told me I was your only hope.”

“That’s a little on the nose.” 

“I did expect that one of the levels would be the Death Star.”

Eames laughed loudly. “I had no idea you knew pop-culture.” They both smiled as they walked toward produce. And then Eames sobered, slightly, turned a bit pink, as though he were embarrassed. “Arthur… Jerome-”

“Was flattering.” Arthur forced the subject to drop. 

A minute later Eames rolled aside a cart of radishes and opened the trapdoor underneath. “Arthur… I just-”

Arthur pushed him into the gaping hole.

~*~

A day and a half later Ariadne was packing up her toiletries keeping an eye on Eames while Arthur was out running errands.

“I don’t want any clothes he picks out for me.” Eames pouted from where he was tucked into bed. “Arthur’s taste is…”

“Classic? Powerful? Distinguished?”

“Snotty.” Eames finished for himself.

Ariadne placed the cosmetic bag into her backpack. “I think it looks good on him.” She double-checked that she had everything she’d brought with her.

“On him, yes, it’s delicious. But it’s not me, that is my point. I can already feel my skin itching at what he’s picking out.” He fidgeted himself further into the pillows at his back. “I haven’t even seen them and I want to scratch.”

“Arthur has been taking very good care of you, Eames. I’m not saying you should feel indebted to him, because - Heaven forbid! - but a little politeness might be called for.” She zipped her pack up and sat on the opposite bed, pulling the small table between them again. “Do you want to play checkers again?”

“And that’s another reason you should stay. Arthur will only play chess, and I hate chess.”

“Then play cards.” Ariadne set up the board with a huff.

“He won’t play cards with me. Arthur says I cheat.”

“You do.”

“You are missing the point.” Eames pulled himself forward and moved the first piece on the board.

“Arthur won’t play a game that he knows he’ll lose. If he will win, or he could win, he’ll play.” Ariadne moved her own piece. “You are more alike than you think you are.”

“ _Heaven forbid!_ ” Eames mocked her and pushed another piece.

“So, here is something I’m curious about. Do you think that the nurses took your catheter out before you were brought down to CAT scan? Or do you think that’s something Arthur had to do?” She casually moved another playing piece.

Eames’ eyes went wide for a moment, and then he made an angry face at her. Even stuck out his tongue.

“I just don’t know that I would fly halfway around the world to save your whinging ass from a ‘coma’ you were dumb enough to get into _AND_ take out your catheter.”

Eames moved again when it was his turn. Strangely not taking the opportunity to take out two of Ariadne’s pieces. “Well, perhaps he’s a better person than you are?”

“I’m glad you noticed.” Ariadne jumped three of Eames’s pieces. “You _will_ wear whatever he brings you.”

~*~

“It was like being on holiday with my mean spinster aunt!” Eames was settled back against the hotel headboard as he gestured toward the door where Ariadne had just left.

“You get along better with her than you do with me.” Arthur pointed out.

“Very well then, my mean spinster aunt and her priest friend.”

“Your mean spinster aunt is Catholic?” Arthur deadpanned.

“It’s possible.” Eames nodded his head toward the bags that Arthur had brought back. “Did you bring me horrible drab woolen suits?”

“No.” Arthur responded as though he hadn’t been insulted. “I asked the clerk to find me the tackiest thing they had. But when I saw it I couldn’t buy it. It tried to burn my eyes out.” He put a shopping bag on Eames’ bed. “Jeans and t-shirts will get you to your stash, and then you can buy whatever horror show you want to wear.”

Eames reached for the bag when Arthur put another small bag on Eames’ lap. “And I got you some solid food.” The smell of fish and chips wafted into Eames nose. He immediately dug into the bag. 

“Ariadne was right.” Eames spoke through a mouthful of fried food.

“About what?” Arthur pulled his own newly acquired jeans from another bag. 

“You are a good person.” Eames thought of saying _You care about me_ but decided against it.

“It was a Tuesday.” Arthur shrugged. When he was finished with the clothes, and Eames was done with the food, Arthur grabbed his laptop and notebook, setting up on the table between the beds. “Merrick has gone to Rio, predictably. Flynn to Vancouver, not as predictable, but he’s stupid enough to have used papers you made for him. Who was your architect?”

“Emmet … something. New to the game, didn’t come with us to Glasgow.”

“Okay,” Arthur said slowly. “Who do you want to start with?”

“Flynn.” Eames spoke emphatically.

Arthur booked the flight.

~*~

They left Emmet in his hotel room in Salzburg. He was alive, uninjured even, just in desperate need of a change of clothing and professing to never work with the likes of Flynn and Merrick again.

Arthur actually liked the kid, and would consider him for a job, maybe, someday. Eames had said the work was brilliant until Flynn had overridden everything. 

They boarded a train to Vienna.

“What now?” Eames asked, staring out the window. 

“I don’t know.” Arthur flipped a couple of pages in his notebook before he closed it and tucked it into the pocket of his leather jacket.

“I’m a little surprised you stuck around this long, Darling.”

“It needed to be done.”

“I can take care of myself. I could have taken care of Flynn and Merrick too.”

“Says the man they left for dead in an alley.”

Eames shut up for a moment, conceding the point. But then “Am I only to work with you for the rest of my career? That would be awfully boring for both of us.”

“No.” Arthur jumped on the answer. 

“So, you’re just the dream police then?”

“If I were, we’d have gone after Cobb too.”

“He won’t get a reputable job. I know you put out the word. I got a few text messages this morning. It’s enough.”

“You’re welcome to go after him.” Arthur stared out the window this time.

“You are a good guy. Must be why Ariadne likes you better than me. You can’t bite the hand that fed you for so long.” Eames leaned forward, elbows on his knees to watch Arthur’s reaction.

Arthur simply snorted. “Something like that.”

“Ah, you’re afraid you’d snap and kill him?”

“Another possibility.” Arthur closed his eyes and leaned his head back .

They were both quiet for a half an hour when Eames spoke up again. “What do we do when we reach Vienna?”

Arthur opened his eyes and searched Eames’ face.

“Do we go our separate ways? Or do we check into a hotel and finally have a go at it?”

“You look so earnest.” Arthur said after a moment of silence.

“You traveled around the planet to find me. You dosed yourself to try and bring me back up. You let Regina flirt with you, and then you traveled around the planet again to help me punish the people who left me for dead.” Eames supplied then he smiled. “Your actions have… given me hope.”

Arthur kept searching his face.

“So, Vienna?” Eames asked

“Someplace warmer. With a beach.”

Eames smiled. “I feel I do need to see Cobb, or at least, make him think I’m coming to see him.” 

Arthur nodded. 

“Miami? Two days?”

Arthur smiled, dimples showing, and nodded.

~*~

“Since when does it rain in Miami?” Eames bemoaned as he stood looking out the open balcony door.

“It rains most everywhere.” Arthur yawned and stretched out on the bed. 

“Yes, well, it’s my bloody holiday and it shouldn’t rain on my holiday. I’ve had enough rain, I’d like some sunshine.” He pouted some more.

“It was sunny yesterday.”

Eames turned back to the room, faced the bed with it’s disheveled linens and a rather naked Arthur. “I was too busy yesterday to notice.”

“You should consider yourself free to be too busy to notice the rain.”

Eames dropped his robe and crawled across the bed to Arthur. “I should like to appreciate the sunlight hitting all this pale skin.”

Arthur leveled a glare at him.

“But I shall persevere. I’ll make it through.”

“You’ll make it through the rain?” Arthur’s face twitched. “Will you be respected? By the others, who, got-”

Eames managed to stop the lyrics, but Arthur hummed the song now and then for the next few days.

~end~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sharpie,  
> I hope you enjoyed this. And I hope that the upcoming year is tremendous. :)


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